Sinner and Saint
by solveariddle
Summary: Contrary to what Gillian believed, Cal was no sinner. Not when it came to her. My (a little too late) contribution to #LieToMeLives.


**A/N: **I almost missed the anniversary when I saw the stories popping up here on FFN. So I sat down and wrote this piece last-minute. The idea for it had been stuck in my mind for a while so that I hope it worked out despite the rush. I can't express in words how much I love it that there are so many new LTM stories here. Speaking of which... here it is, my a-little-too-late contribution to #LieToMeLives .

**Disclaimer: **So much love for the show and its characters, but nothing is mine.

* * *

Sometimes she looks down as if it actually was there – the pedestal on which he puts her again and again.

She is the one he comes to in times of need, his last resort when everything seems to be lost, the one to pick him up when he fell another time. He makes the mess and she cleans up. At some point during their relationship as business partners and friends, they slipped into those roles, and these days, they fit like a second skin. It's an endless circle save that she wants out. Desperately.

What he doesn't know, doesn't _want_ to know, is that it scares her to death to stand on that pedestal all the time because it's so damn lonely up here. On some days, she is almost afraid to take a step, can virtually feel it under her feet – keeping her on the spot, placing her out of his reach, making her stay put so that he won't ever have to make a choice when all she wants is take the step, cross the line, and fall. The pain from the impact would be a relief. Anything will be better than this constant numbness of denial.

Because contrary to what he believes, she is no saint.

She wants him so bad. All of him. His edgy character, his sexy voice, his inked skin. Everything. But she can't have it as long as she is supposed to be untouchable. Whenever she wears high heels so that he has to look up at her, she almost has to laugh at the absurdity. It's as if a metaphor came to life, but of course he doesn't notice or at least pretends there is nothing to see. Being his blind spot can be a convenient excuse.

If he knew what was going on inside her, his innuendo probably would be stuck in his throat, leaving him speechless that she was capable of such a vivid imagination. Then again, she suspects he somehow knows already and this is why he is even more anxious to keep her in place. Because he having a dirty mind is common knowledge whereas admitting that she has those thoughts, too, would make it real. It would turn seemingly harmless banter into a very serious possibility. That's why she is not allowed to come down so that they can continue their little dance. She up here and he down there in a bizarre synchronicity that is as beautiful as heartbreaking.

Together, yet apart.

* * *

He is well aware that they can't keep this up forever, that the way he treats her would have most likely driven anybody else away by now.

She is his best friend, his constant, always there for him when times get rough. Then again, she is also a beautiful woman, the ever-present temptation right under his nose. He tries to cover up his longing by checking her out so obviously that it could pass for playful innuendo, nothing but physical attraction, the way he checks every woman out that crosses his path. It is inept in a sort because actually he wants her to see through his meticulously built disguise. And once she will manage to do that, she will see it all – so much more than just physical attraction.

Basically, he is only stalling for time since she is a psychologist and will figure it out sooner or later. At least that was the plan. Considering that this game between them has been going on for years, he sometimes is not so sure anymore that she will and this is irritating him increasingly of late. She was supposed to confront him one day, tell him his not-so-covert secret outright, so that he wouldn't have to. But what if this will never happen? What if he will continue to keep her at distance or be close to her, depending on his current mood, until she will be fed up with it and him?

The situation confuses him all the more for the simple reason that he is quite certain she feels the same longing. A longing that is as well physical as emotional and runs deeper than anything he ever felt before. He knows he tends to put her on an invisible pedestal to place her out of his reach till she decides it will be the right time, knows she doesn't like it and also knows she thinks he isn't aware of that. But right now it is necessary. There is no other way to protect her.

Because contrary to what she believes, he is no sinner.

Not when it comes to her. That's why they are trapped in this awkward situation. And that doesn't mean he doesn't want her in every sinful way his wanton imagination can come up with. It means that he is so afraid to screw things up if they ever got together that he will rather wait for the right moment forever than make the first move at the wrong time or in the wrong manner. There are so many possible snares that it makes him dizzy. Losing her is not worth the risk; so there has to be a viable option. And according to his plan, a little stricken or not, that viable option has to be her saying it to his face before he can go for it. Maybe she just needs some help.

He meets her in the hallway and walks next to her so closely that their bodies melt. They have perfected that walk over the years and as much as he likes it, he knows that she even likes it more. Perhaps because it requires them to be on the same level, no pedestal. Well, another reason could be, of course, that their bodies are so close that it always feels like verbal foreplay when they use some business topic to talk and walk like that.

They have reached the end of the hallway; there is nothing else to discuss, but when she wants to go into her office, he touches her arm to stop her.

She looks at him warily, immediately catching even the slightest of his mood swings as she usually does, save that this is a big one. And judging from her facial expression, she knows.

"Sorry," he says whereas his eyes say he's not. "Just thought you were about to stumble. Probably was mistaken since there is no, you know, pedestal or something that you could fall down from."

Being a psychologist who uses subtle hints more often than plain talking, he thought she'd appreciate an understated approach. She doesn't respond, only stares at him and also has stopped breathing he notices a bit worried. Then she exhales and actually takes a step forward as if she stepped down from that invisible thing that has been separating them for much too long.

"Now that you mention it," she says, "there might have been something. Good that you broke my fall."

* * *

**The end**


End file.
